Camlann
by Ocean Mint Leaves
Summary: When the witch came into her senses she found Emrys staring down at her, an indescribable expression in his withered face. He sighed heavily as she panted for breath, feeling the familiar warmth of blood dripping from her head wound. "Help me, Emrys" she whispered.
1. Morgana's Epiphany

**_Revised July 2012._  
><strong>

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><p>An experiment.<p>

That's what this is.

The writers have taken too many liberties in the show, from killing Lancelot to making Mordred a druid with magic. But we still love it, don't we? I know it's not that realistic to have Morgana still being ignorant of Merlin being Emrys but I needed to fit her vision in this. :)

Please enjoy.

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><p><strong>First<br>**

**Morgana's Epiphany.  
><strong>

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><p>Camelot's red flag was a bright point against the darkening sky. The High King's soldiers didn't dream. They were awake and silent, for hours to come, until the dawn broke.<strong><br>**

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><p>Trembling fingers fastened King Arthur's red cloak with utmost care and the Court Sorcerer's eyes, deep and troubled, did not seek his King's as his hand lingered on the red worn material, as if his touch could keep time from running and that gloved palm from taking the hilt of Excalibur and step away from the security of the dark tent, into the heavy stench of the carnage that had graced the fields of Camlann for days.<p>

One blond eyebrow rose, noticing his discomfort. Those lips tugged upwards in a lopsided grin and his King shook the scrawny shoulder.

_"Merlin? Why are you shaking so?"_

_"It's nothing, Arthur."_

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><p>She'd waited so long for it.<p>

So, so long.

Her hand was placed on Mordred's neck; her voice whispered "Kill him."

_"You needn't to ask, My Lady."_ He said.

* * *

><p>While King Arthur dispatched yet another enemy Merlin fought with The Lady Morgana, not too far from his friend.<p>

The mighty warlock, or as he is referred with reverence, _Emrys_, was almost at the end of his strength. He was fighting in the form of Dragoon the Great, his white beard floating as the wind carried the screams from soldiers in both sides. It had been years since Arthur had finally been told, and after much tears and endeavors, Arthur had accepted Merlin as his right hand and advisor.

As the _other side of the coin._

But even after all those years…Merlin just couldn't bring himself to tell her. To tell Morgana how he had failed her. To tell her how he, too, had magic, and how he had somehow betrayed her by leaving her all alone to figure it all out. Merlin still felt that it was his fault that Morgana had turned to the wrong side and deep in his heart he couldn't forgive himself…

So Morgana was now fighting who she believed to be her destiny and her doom, both terrified and completely reckless, her green eyes shining feverishly and her lips curled into a feral snarl. There was nothing of the Morgana that had been Uther's ward all those years ago. Only a primal, almost inhuman sense of revenge and blood lust that had driven the witch to use necromancers and dark beasts against her half-brother, the fabled King Arthur...

The King in question was fighting Mordred at that time, the sound of their swords clutching together as both men danced a mortal compass against the descending sun. She noticed with bloodshot eyes how the sight made the old man in front of her pale dangerously.

"Why so frightened, Emrys?" she asked softly. eyes lit up with cold hate. "Do you fear I will win this war?"

"Not by the slightest, Morgana" Emrys said, and he had renewed fighting with amazing and natural talent, and Morgana could barely defend herself. Their spells clashed in mid-air, sending bright lights flying all over the bloody field.

"I can even begin to describe to you how glorious it will be when Arthur's finally dead." she said, conjuring fire out of her hands and watching the field burn at her command. "I will finally, finally, reach my place upon the throne"

His pale face looked up so that his eyes were piercing hers.

"I'm afraid that will never happen" Emrys retorted angrily.

Morgana's smile turned into a scowl as she summoned everything she had. It was now or never.

She could hear Mordred's enraged cry as he buried his sword into King Arthur's chest, and then suddenly Mordred fell silent.

but for Morgana it wasn't important anymore.

Throwing a mighty blast force at Emrys she let out a tight scream when the force returned to her, making everything fade into a white light and then…nothing...

...When the witch came into her senses she found Emrys staring down at her, an indescribable expression in his withered face. He sighed heavily as she panted for breath, feeling the familiar warmth of blood dripping from her head wound.

Her hand extended towards him, driven by a desire to survive stronger than any prophecy. Morgana's dirt covered fingers reached for the tall man, her eyes wide as she gasped and her throat burned with the taste of warm dust.

"Help me, Emrys" she whispered.

She could see the sprawled form a fallen warrior (Arthur?) just behind Emrys. As the man sighed once again, Morgana saw tears trickling down the old man's cheeks.

"Is this what you really wanted, Morgana?" Emrys barely mumbled, his eyes so sad that she flinched inwardly. Those eyes…she _had_ seen them before…

Just when she thought Emrys would finally kill her, as it was written before time, a soft groan could be heard. And in front of her disbelieving eyes her brother roll weakly on his side, sucking a desperate lungful of air and those clear eyes opened and blinked, wandering around slowly.

He was alive.

The sword that still protruded from his side held him down, though, and the High King of Albion let out a whimper when he rested his eyes upon it, grabbing the hilt and pulling slowly. The offending weapon slid from his side smoothly, finally laying on the ground besides the fallen warrior. Arthur's chest drew breaths frantically and Morgana, still confronted by the tall figure of Emrys, could see his lips forming words, a name, that he needed by his side.

Those eyes finally focused on the scene they were seeing and something came alight in the blue depths while unmistakable affection rested upon his weary face and a weak whisper roused from his lips. ".._.lin_?"

Those soft eyes of the old man, of Emrys, came alive as if the deep despair that had taken hold of him had lifted from his soul. Morgana saw him turn around faster than she could've think possible, and the heartfelt sigh of pure alleviation that came from Emrys' lips was like nothing she'd heard before.

"Arthur!" he cried out, kneeling by the side of his fallen monarch and taking the King's hand affectionately between his own, placing his withered hand on the alabaster brow of the greatest king ever to live, feeling the faint life beneath his fingers.

King Arthur smiled, then. A smile brighter than the falling sun, one that was filled with accomplishment and affection. He clutched Emrys' hands tightly in a brotherly gesture.

"It's alright…" the King of all Albion said with the faintest of breaths. "I'm glad you're here…"

But Emrys' didn't let him finish, a tear rolling down his cheek as he shook his head softly.

"You're not going to die, you prat." the old sorcerer rolled his eyes as he spoke, wiping on the thick earth the red tint of the royal blood. He tried to smile but the thick emotion in his voice betrayed him. "I'm going to heal you right now"

Arthur, the golden King, the hero of Albion, grinned. The light on his eyes faded, ever so softly, and they slipped close at his own accord. "It's too…late…" he whispered. "Even...for...you."

Emrys face deepened, his expression an odd mixture of panic and pure sorrow...

...and Morgana, oddly enough, felt as if she had been given a great gift by watching this. The old man had whispered, almost tenderly. "Is never too late." and then proceeded to hover his trembling, withered hand over the wound.

To Morgana's astonishment the wound healed entirely, even if the old man was suddenly swaying in his feet and seemed in the verge of collapse. Arthur's sky blue eyes, alert and_ alive_, snapped open and Morgana couldn't help but feel the cruel sting of disappointment while the King glared at the man in front of him, grasping his shoulders.

"You idiot!" King Arthur exclaimed. "_what_ did you do?"

When Emrys just laughed it off and smiled - such a warm, sincere smile- Morgana felt anger like never before rise inside her. Her hands trembled with discording fury as her eyes fell on Mordred, cold and still and _dead_ besides King Arthur's glowing form. No, He'd stopped being Arthur. He was now the golden King of a land that had rejected her, a land that she desired with every drop of her blood.

"This is not over." she sneered. Her hands played with the lace of her dress as she took a dagger out of her ripped clothing, turning it over in her hands as memories of her birthday and Arthur's smile flashed across her frenzied mind. She raised the dagger above her head...

Arthur saw her.

He saw her and his eyes got wide, soft and terribly vulnerable as he sought, once again, the part of her that she'd buried alive in the deepest recess of her heart.

and then...

...she threw.

But the old man caught Arthur's glance and, before Arthur could do anything he had positioned himself in front of his King, his eyes fierce as he extended his arms, as if to embark Arthur's whole body and Morgana's dagger, with immense precision, ebbed itself on the thin chest of the old sorcerer.

On Emrys.

A nauseating happiness invaded her when the sorcerer's brilliant eyes locked with hers before his gaze fell towards the dagger, staring at it for the longest of moments, _staring_ as his life poured from his wound.

Then, those bright eyes looked directly into the endless pit of destiny before dragging themselves towards Arthur...

Arthur, the golden King, whose face was pale with feral fear and denial while he stretched his hand towards Emrys, as if he was willing for it all to reverse. As if the worse mistake ever made had taken place before his very eyes.*

"_NO!_" The High King's inhuman scream echoed through the suddenly silent battlefield.

And Morgana…for her life, she could never comprehend what happened. The old sorcerer disappeared and instead, in front of her, swaying on his feet and blood bubbling from his chest was…Merlin.

_Merlin._


	2. The Witch's Doom

_**Revised July 2012.**_

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><p><strong>Second<br>**

**The Witch's Doom.  
><strong>

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><p>It had been too quickly, but Arthur could only see it in slow motion. The dagger, flying through the air, piercing Merlin's chest. And then Merlin, only Merlin, looking <em>oh<em> so pleased with himself.

But it was just for a moment.

Because then, Merlin looked like a small child as he fell, and Arthur reached out, taking that skinny, fragile body in his arms, a word repeating on his head.

.

.

_No._

* * *

><p>"M-Merlin?"<p>

The witch's surprised whisper was barely heard, for the horror-stricken, heartbreaking scream of the High King of Albion seemed to shake the center of the earth.

"_MERLIN!"_ Arthur's cry surpassed hers and in a frantic movement he was upwards too, catching Merlin's falling body before he hit the hard rock. Lowering the warlock gently to the floor, Arthur's eyes focused on the dagger that sprout out of Merlin's chest, and the red stain that was growing under his best friend's light colored shirt. Wiping away the sweat on his brow, Arthur's skilled hand took the dagger out swiftly and the King flinched when Merlin whimpered painfully.

"It's alright, idiot...I've got you."

His voice was heavy with reassurance, odd and strained. But his best friend's eyes held the truth, and those eyes were ever so profound, ever so breathtakingly brilliant as he muttered with a faint gleam in his darkening eyes._ "Arthur…"_

"Shhh Merlin…don't speak now." he said softly, and for once, concern painted his every word. His calloused hands tried to stop the blood flow, pressing down on the wound as the life giving liquid ran through his hands, slipping through his fingers and reaching the floor...

Arthur's shaking hands were displaced by Merlin's and the King just shook his head in denial when the pale hands of his best friend clutched his in a silent plead for forgiveness.

"Arthur" his friend muttered softly, looking right at the King's horrified gaze. "I'm…"

He tried to swallow the blood that had suddenly found its way through his throat but with no avail. Blood blossomed from the warlock's lips, trailing down his cheek and Arthur's expression was so heartbroken that Merlin felt tears dwell in his eyes too, because he _knew_ how he would feel if their roles were reversed. Arthur blinked as he wiped away the dark liquid with his thumb, his eyes pleading for this not to be true.

"Arthur-" Merlin tried again. He could almost feel his heart stopping so he pushed the words out rapidly. "I'm s-"

His King shook his head violently, knuckles white where he still clutched a part of his red cape above Merlin's wound.

"Don't you _dare_ say you're sorry Merlin!" Arthur hissed. His eyes flickered desperately as he tried to fall a remnant of civilization between the bodies. "Don't you _dare_ talk like…like…"

"I'm _so _sorry Arthur." the Emrys whispered and his voice broke as his vision blurred and the only thing distinguishable was the golden hair against a stark white sky...

Those words, sometimes heartfelt and begging for understanding, others, a light hearted jest. This time they encircled the truth of what had happened, what _was_ happening, and how so very sorry he felt as he saw Arthur's red and wide scared eyes.

But his King's hand pressed down harder on the weeping hole in his chest, wiping his fingers to keep away the suspicious humidity on his eyes.

"You are being melodramatic, as always." Arthur said with a small, shaky, false laugh. "You are not permitted to quit your job yet."

He didn't answer, for he knew that whatever he said would only bring his King more desperation, more futile attempts to stop the inevitable. Instead, he let his fingers curl around Arthur's strong hand as a new wave of indescribable pain hit him and tears rose to his eyes.

He screamed.

"_No!_ Merlin…please…" Arthur's hands shook him, _shook_ him violently, and then grasped his shoulders, trying to pull him into a sitting position, trying to negate the reality...

A single word leaved the King's lips though he already knew the answer. But it was just too painful, too painful to even think about it.

_"Why?"_

Merlin smiled fondly at his King once again demonstrating that amazing understanding he had of his friend "You know the answer, Arthur." he said gently.

And Arthur closed his eyes tightly when Merlin's soft words brought him another memory he had tried to evade.

'_I'm glad to be your servant….till the day I die'_

Arthur shook, his lips pursed into a thin line and his eyes fierce. The High King of Albion strengthened his hold on the red Camelot cape with renewed strength and looked around once again, the setting sun casting shadows across his distressed face. There was no one...no Gwaine, no Percival to call out to.

He could hear every gasping breath Merlin took under his hands, urgently pressing down on the wound as if by willpower alone he could stop that courageous heart from bleeding...

Again, denial surfaced. Denial...only denial could save him for completely breaking apart.

" No..._No_, Merlin…. Please heal yourself! Do it, Merlin! As your king I command you to _do it_!" he didn't care if he was screaming, he didn't care if his fist was now punching the ground in a rhythmic motion, blood stained coppery earth rising around him . He just didn't _care_.

"I spent all my energy…_on you._" Merlin answered with a breath, not bit of shame staining his voice.

It dawned then, when Arthur's eyes were caught in his reddened hands, trembling as they reached out for a heartbeat that was barely there...

But it could not be true.

"Merlin...Merlin, you idiot!" Arthur finally broke down and tears slid down his cheeks. He held Merlin closer as the man struggled to breathe. This couldn't be _happening._ Merlin couldn't be _dying_. Merlin wasn't supposed to die, not in any way, not now, not ever.

That voice whispered, laced with affection and so much sad understanding, that the silence there was before and after was deafening. Merlin breathed the name that he'd carried within his soul for years, every syllable a life line that his King's wide eyes held on to.

_"Arthur."_

Merlin, his idiot, smiled.

And his eyes , now darkened and illuminated with only a flicker of a soft light, followed the sundown, that faint smile deepening as his weak pupils focused on the warmth of the live giving star. Then, they sought his King.

Those eyes locked with his King, so widened and so truly afraid, and a slow tear slid down the pale cheek. A trembling, pale hand rose up and fingers ghosted along dull, sweat covered blond hair, drinking in the features of the highest and noblest King there ever was. Of Arthur. His prat.

One last breath came forth from his mouth, forming words that stroke his heart at the same time those fingers loosened between his hair and came down, no longer able to support themselves.

"You are the…best friend…I ever had. I'm honored to have fought…by your side…M-my King"

Arthur's terrified gaze could barely comprehend what was happening when those blue eyes slipped closed and the head of black hair hung limply from Arthur's supporting hand. His brows furrowed as he negated the reality of what had happened with a horrified, heart-wrenching scream.

"_Merlin!"_

Shaking all over with overwhelming grief The King placed a bloody hand over his friend's prominent cheek, ignoring the way that head offered no resistance when his hands tightened his hold. He cried out, desperate for a reaction. "No, no,_ no_, you idiot!"

But his fingers, frantically searching for the reassuring beating of that heart, found only silence. And when he lifted, ever so gently, those eyelids...only blank, dull blue pupils, once so alive with warmth, stared back into his eyes.

"Don't do this to me…" he whispered with a sob. "Oh, God..._no._"

But there was no answer.

His idiot was gone.

It struck him, then. And the wetness in his eyes transformed into a river as his fingers touched the base of that throat and found only cold, horrifying silence. Grief and silence, tears and rage. Nothing else. No Merlin.

With a choked sob that came from the bottom of his torn soul, he let his arms act at their own accord, providing him the only thing that could calm his horrified mind right now as he pulled his precious warlock closer to his body, clutching him with desperate, overwhelming need. Merlin's head rested against his chest, damp from tears and blood, and his heart broke all over again when no trickle of faint breath caressed his bare throat, no movement occurred beneath his fingers. Arthur hung his head low, letting the tears he was not ashamed to cry slide past his cheeks and into the ground like pieces of precious crystals that broke when they reached the floor. Broken as the King's soul was right now.

But The High King snapped his head upright when a sudden maniac laugh filled the air. His blue eyed gaze found Morgana, the witch, the pariah, bending over as the beastly sound of _joy_ left her throat. She had also tears staining her cheeks. But hers were of…_amusement._

"I can't believe Merlin was Emrys all this time!" Morgana wheezed as she struggled to gasp air between her hysterics laughs. "He was a lot more pathetic than what I thought. He had me at his mercy and he couldn't even lift a finger at me…" she broke into a mad grin. "My destiny and my_ doom_? No. He always was a _stupid fool._"

Arthur's face, caked with blood, dirt and now fresh tears, grew stonier by the second and when Morgana reached the point of "stupid fool" his body was shaking with tremors of pure rage, Merlin's whole body trembling between his arms. His hazed, frantic mind reached the truth, then. _Morgana_ had been the one who threw the dagger; _Morgana_ had laughed at his friend's bloodied body.

_Morgana had **killed** Merlin_.

And as it dawned upon him, his grief took another form beneath his skin and his eyes snapped upwards, red and feral. The High King let the fragile, broken body of his sorcerer rest limply against him as he clutched his warlock to his chest tightly for a few moments, asking for forgiveness before placing his truest friend gently on the cold, bloodied ground. Where he didn't belong.

Smoothing his fingers through caked black hair, King Arthur closed his eyes and reached for the bloodied Excalibur, thrusting it out of Mordred's body without even sparing a glance at the traitor's face. He got up from where he was kneeling, with no crown or robes, but looking more majestic than what he had looked in all his life.

"You should have known, Morgana…" Arthur commented while he advanced towards the witch. His eyes, once compassionate and merciful were cold and empty. "…that if Merlin wasn't your doom is because _I_ will be"

And with that he buried the sword into Morgana's stomach as she let out a startled cry of surprise. Wide-eyed, Morgana Le Fay looked into Arthur's cold, unforgiving face.

"Arthur" she whispered "…I-I'm your sister…"

Arthur's gaze traveled to Merlin's slumped from behind him, and when he looked at Morgana again his eyes still held no mercy.

"You are no sister of mine." he said in a pained whisper.

It was in those moments that Morgana wondered what had happened with the Arthur she knew. The Arthur that was cheerful and wise and even though she hated him he still had made no ill move towards her. This Arthur was different. This Arthur was as cold as an empty body, black as night. He was a changed man.

"Arthur…" Morgana said through her teeth. Once again, Arthur looked at his friend's body and he let out a broken whisper of _"Merlin…"_ before facing Morgana again. His face contorted with pent up rage and grief as he took the blessed sword out of Morgana's abdomen.

Morgana sucked a breath and she fell to her knees, clutching her side. Blood trickled down as her gaze went upwards, where Arthur looked like a vengeful angel, the sun radiated through his features, through the golden beard and blood-shot, stricken eyes. And then, quite suddenly, Arthur answered her unasked question with an empty dark voice. "You just _killed_ the only person you should have spared Morgana..." he said, bending towards her face, so close that she could see the sweat mingled with those salty tears Arthur had promised never to cry. "If you wanted mercy from _me_"

And …Oh, she understood. Arthur would have forgiven her, he would have let her live…If Merlin wasn't cold and limp behind Arthur's protective stance.

If Merlin hadn't been such a _selfless idiot._

But he was.

And at the end…Emrys…_Merlin_ had been her doom. He, and no other, was the cause of her downfall.

So King Arthur impaled Excalibur through Morgana Le Fay's heart in a quick motion, pain and rage emanating from his eyes.

_But not for her._

No, it had been minutes since Arthur felt anything but hatred and loath for Morgana, and the witch could only watch how Arthur's eyes suddenly let out tears of grief

"_But not at me…" _she reminded herself with her dying thought_ "it's Merlin…only Merlin now."_

And Morgana faded into blackness.

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><p>But Arthur weeps in Carduel<br>His Merlin's mystic doom;

_- Robert Buchanan._


	3. The Coin is No More

_**Revised July 2012.**_

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><p><strong>Third<br>**

**The Coin is No More.**

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><p>Morgana's body fell to the ground, gracefully bending forward before her cheek came in contact with the coppery earth. Those green eyes retained all of the shock and surprise, the long dark curls sprawling around her fallen figure. But the eyes of King Arthur were not pitiful as they looked towards the woman he used to see as his sister, for they were still clouded and dead, heartless and empty as a moonless night. He made sure there was no breath inside of her by thrusting his sword through her lungs, her chest, again...and again, and again...<p>

A broken scream came forth from his dry throat as he threw Excalibur aside, falling to his knees beside the mangled body of the woman that had taken everything away from him. His hands became fists around the damp, reddened dirt as his forehead touched the warm dust and he let out with trembling insecurity the name that was engraved deep in his soul, torn apart from his so cruelly...

"Merlin."

He raised his eyes, ignoring the way tears fell into the bronze earth, and those sky-blue irises wondered around, from Mordred's open, unblinking and dead cold eyes to Morgana's shocked expression...and then...to Merlin's thin body, to that pure face that held no breath inside anymore. He looked as if he was merely sleeping, ready to blink those cheerful eyes open and mutter affectionately, '_prat_.'

King Arthur closed his eyes as he willed himself to wake up, convinced, for a second, that it was all a nightmare. If it was somehow reality then why was there still a pumping heart inside his chest?

But when he opened his eyes again, Merlin was still there, cold and limp, his eyes closed, cheeks already loosing all color, lips pale and barely parted even if no ghost of air passed through them...

He rose to his wobbly feet, driven, by a unnatural horror and denial, towards his fallen idiot, gasping soft sobs in the overwhelming need to feel, yet again, the undeniable truth beneath his fingers.

His knees failed him when he finally reached his sorcerer's side.

It was like a blow on his chest, deathly if it had been real. To see, once again, the open, torn skin of his beloved friend, to feel the coldness of that ivory skin, to hear not the slightest of sounds coming from that heart that had beaten for him, for _Arthur_, since the beginning of time.

His trembling fingers reached towards the soaked tunic, trying to button the light shirt as he brushed most of the blood away. The deep gash that had torn his friend away from him appeared beneath the redness and he let out a pained gasp as he covered it with a strand of Merlin's beloved green cloak, not being able to stand the sight of Merlin's golden heart tattered beneath his hands. His heart ached as calloused thumbs traced the form of those still shoulders before he grasped them, placing a gentle arm beneath his fallen friend's shoulder blades and, ever so softly, taking his friend's broken body back in his arms, cradling him as if he was a small, sleeping child. Because Merlin didn't deserve to lie on that warm earth; he deserved to be in the arms of people who cared about him.

But mostly, Merlin deserved to _live_

Tears slid down his golden beard and reach the floor, once again "I'm-" he suffocated a sob. "I'm just…so_ sorry_" he whispered gently into Merlin's cold, deaf ear. "I'm so sorry, Merlin…I don't even know why I bring you to these bloody battles…"

He knew what Merlin's answer would be. _"to keep your sorry ass from getting killed, you prat!"_

But Merlin would never smile at him again. He would never amuse him with sarcastic questions. No more witty remarks, no more lopsided grins. No more strolling casually to his warlock's lake to talk about the day, No more amusing breakfasts with magic and light banter. No more Uncle Merlin for poor little Amhar.

No more nothing.

He wiped his tears away and looked, truly looked, at Merlin's face. He was peaceful and the gentle smile that had graced his lips as his King became his last sight on earth had slowly turned downwards, leaving only parted lips. Arthur couldn't help but stare at them, hoping that Merlin would suck a breath and open his eyes, and laugh and tease him…and just well, be Merlin.

But he could only lie to himself for so long. As much as his fingers brushed and pressed down on that cold chest, Merlin's heartbeat would not return. As much as he pleaded him, insulted him and threatened him, Merlin would not open his eyes and meet his, that cheerful gaze sparkling with amusement as it always did when they locked eyes together, expressing through their pupils the affection and the bond that had been foretold since the dawn of time.

He knew that he couldn't stay in that bloody battlefield. Because Merlin, sweet, wise Merlin, cheerful, powerful Merlin did not deserve being in that bloodshed a moment more. And so Arthur slid his arm beneath Merlin's thin knees, tears trickling down his face again when Merlin's head sank further into his chest and yet...not the slightest breath warmed up his frozen heart. He staggered to his feet as an unkingly whimper escaped his throat when he realized Merlin still weighted as much as a small child. Hadn't he insisted for years that the warlock should eat more? Hadn't he asked him to be more careful? Hadn't he made clear that Merlin should not be an idiot and, under any circumstances, let his well being be forgotten for Arthur's sake...?

The High King started walking through the corpses, not even sparing glances at his loyal knights that were scattered like pieces of domino all over the territory; not acknowledging the dying groans of those that were still alive because Merlin's _breathing_ was missing. Feeling Merlin's familiar weight in his arms and feeling the dark haired head resting against his chest Arthur reminded himself that he couldn't forgive anyone, _anyone_ that had ever allowed this atrocity to happen.

He stopped moving, shaking his head in fierce denial, when he saw the white and red tents ahead. The golden dragon. The victory that awaited him.

_Victory_? he let out a dry, grief filled laugh. There was no victory for him anymore.

His eyes fell unto his friend once more and he unwillingly tightened his arms around the thin frame, softly murmuring as he looked down at those closed eyelids.

"Merlin, _please_."

His knees bended at their own accord as he rested a hand upon those familiar shoulders.

He was begging, wasn't he? He was walking on his knees, wasn't he? Hadn't Merlin always demanded more humility from him? Hadn't Merlin always said he would stay at his side...?

"you are the other side of the coin, remember?" he whispered fiercely, clutching the pale face of his old friend between his shaking hands, staring intently at those brilliant blue eyes that had been a guide for him through the darkest of his days, willing himself not to crumble when the eyelids did not flutter. Because Merlin would always answer him... "How do you expect me to go on without you? If you won't fight for Albion, for Gwen of for Amhar, then…then do it for _me._"

Praying with all his might that he might be heard, Arthur touched two gentle fingers to Merlin's bare, pale neck.

There was nothing.

_Nothing._

King Arthur, High King of Albion, let out a roar of agony as all sense was knocked out of him, the truth hitting him, yet again, and crumbling the world before his eyes. There was no hope now, no nothing. He felt as if his heart had broken in two. As if the coin that so well represented them had suddenly crumbled and Merlin's side was no more.

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><p>"How the mighty have fallen in battle!<br>Jonathan is dead on Gilboa's hills.

I cry for you, my brother Jonathan.  
>I enjoyed your friendship so much.<br>Your love to me was wonderful,  
>better than the love of women.<p>

"How the mighty have fallen!  
>The weapons of war are gone."<p>

_- 2 Samuel 1._


	4. Gwaine's Incredulity

**_Revised July 2012._**

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><p>This was written before 4x02 and 4x09 came around and I didn't have the heart to remove Lancelot from the story because I frankly love him with all my heart. So he's still in here.<p>

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><p><strong>Fourth<br>**

**Gwaine's Incredulity.**

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><p>King Arthur mourned with bitter grief<p>

The friend he loved so well,

_- L'Morte D Arthur._

Sir Gawayne rides o'er down and dell  
>In search of Merlin's tomb.<p>

_- Robert Buchanan._

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><p>Arthur never knew how many time he spent kneeling on that battlefield. It may have been days. Or weeks, even.<p>

Years.

He only knew that the sun was falling.

But_ his_ sun had already fallen down.

There was nothing left for him.

Still, the soft rays warmed the earth.

* * *

><p>It was not simple to lie down in the ground for hours as he waited for his head to stop spinning, Gwaine decided.<p>

But as he shot to his feet, shaking the dust from his armor and glancing around, a new found dread settled on his stomach when he saw the carnage he'd been lying in. Bodies, from the witch's minions and from Arthur's knights, were scattered across the reddened earth like fallen trees.

But to Sir Gwaine that was not as alarming as the absence of said King, who was nowhere in sight He could not see the proud golden head of King Arthur anywhere, and a slow sense of unwelcomed nervousness began settling on his stomach, making his sweaty hand travel down his face as he muttered, "Well, princess, you're proving hard to find."

That's when he heard his name being called and he whipped his head around to see Sir Lancelot advance towards him, skipping through the mangled bodies and getting him into an awkward hug.

"Lance, mate!" he said, placing a warm hand on the knight's shoulder. "I'm glad to see a familiar face. Have you seen the princess?"

Lancelot's tired face scrunched over and his dark eyes looked troubled before he spoke. "No, Gwaine, not since he went down the hill to fight Mordred…." His face paled and he staggered back. "You don't think…"

"Not for one second, mate." Gwaine said cheerfully as he peeled his gloves out of his hands, his warm eyes winked at Lancelot. "The princess is fine. He's got Merlin to look out for him."

But Lancelot had seen Mordred advance towards Arthur with such a determined face that it made him felt sick. He had seen Merlin fighting 4 sorcerers at once, killing them all swiftly before turning his attention to his King. He had seen Arthur fighting Mordred. He had seen Arthur _fall._

And then he himself had fallen, knocked out by someone he couldn't give a name.

But Gwaine brushed his concerns off with a smile and a joke as he began walking, as lightly as if he wasn't in the middle of a battlefield, towards the direction Lancelot pointed out. They walked between the red earth, barely sparing glances to the sacrificed lives that were covering it. Lancelot frowned when he remembered how Arthur always walked between the causalities after a battle, closing his fallen warrior's eyes and whispering apologies to those he could've saved….well; he was doing nothing of the sort now, was he?

A weight settled on his chest but Gwaine, ever so clueless, did not see it. A moment later he screamed. "Look, there's that girl's petticoat!"

Lancelot gasped in relief when he could see a golden head glistening against the falling sunlight, bended towards something…or _someone._

Someone wearing a bloody green cape and who had a mop of black hair.

Someone who was limply cradled in the King's arms, and who seemed to fit there perfectly.

Someone who looked…

_Dead._

His heart jumped on his chest and the noble knight felt tears sting his eyes as a solemn mantra came forth from the deepest parts of his soul.

"_No."_ Lancelot murmured as he started running towards his King "Oh, please no, no, no, no…."

Gwaine frowned when he heard him, calling out as his friend sprinted downhill. "Lancelot, what are you doing…?"

But then he himself began running towards his King by Lancelot's side with a gasp. The two knights fell to his knees when they reached their golden leader, Lancelot's eyes already drowned in hot tears as he shook his head, placing the back of his hand against his mouth to muffle a strangled scream.

Arthur did not avert his eyes from the figure in his arms, nor did he make any sign that he'd seen two of his most loyal knights had reached him. All his attention was concentrated fully on the limp, almost sleeping figure cradled against his bloodied chest.

On _Merlin._

Lancelot let out a stifled cry when he realized that Arthur was _rocking_. He was rocking gently, as he did with Amhar when he had to lay him to sleep. Merlin did look like a tired, messy child in Arthur's arms. And Lancelot heard phrases of what his King murmured in a soft, tender voice "It's alright Merlin…no one will ever hurt you again, I promise…you are safe…" and then, suddenly louder, not even realizing the two knights were there, Arthur said brokenly. "you can sleep now Merlin, I won't go anywhere…" he broke into a tired and painful grin "_together,_ Merlin. As always"

One glance at Gwaine's face told Lancelot that the knight did not understand the tragedy that was presenting itself before of his eyes. His drunken friend's face was darkened with confusion as his eyes traveled from Merlin to Arthur, back and forth.

After a few seconds of unbearable silence Gwaine snapped. Grabbing Merlin's shoulder he shook it roughly and Merlin's head lolled loosely against Arthur's chest. "Come on, Merlin! Wake up, mate. Enough with the joke, wake up, Merlin!"

Lancelot grabbed Gwaine's wrists gently when Arthur shoved out the knight's hand away with surprising strength, finally looking at them with red-rimmed eyes.

"Gwaine." Lancelot murmured "Gwaine…he's…"

"No, Lancelot!" Gwaine blurted. His eyes darted uncontrollably but for some unknown reason he broke into a grin. "He's just sleeping. Princess, why don't you tell Lance that Merlin is just sleeping? Here, give him to me Arthur. I'll wake him up"

Denial. Denial again.

Again, Arthur almost seemed surprised when he realized they were there. He eyed them with tortured eyes.

Seconds.

Seconds passed and no one breathed. Arthur glanced down at Merlin's face.

"No." Came Arthur's simple whisper.

Lancelot could see the resolve in Gwaine's eyes breaking as the knight started breathing rapidly and his hands clenched in sudden fists. He stared at Arthur's grief filled eyes with needed incomprehension.

"_What?"_ Gwaine hissed.

"Merlin is _mine._" Arthur announced with such a conviction that Lancelot felt something cold squeezed his heart. This truly was the Once and Future King mourning his best friend, his warlock…the other side of the coin. "Merlin stays with me. He needs _me_"

Gwaine wasn't moved though. The rough knight just fixed Arthur with a stern glare.

"Then _wake him up_!"

"Gwaine" Lancelot tried again "Gwaine he's d-"

"_Don't you dare say it Lancelot!_" Gwaine covered his ears in a childish manner, shooting Lancelot a cold glare, even when the resolve was breaking behind and the denial was slowly being replaced by horror. "Don't you say it! Merlin is _sleeping._ And if you won't wake him up, Princess, I will, though I don't understand why you haven't, since you have no problem in doing it anyway! What's the matter? There's no bucket of water near?"

Lancelot could barely believe Gwaine's words and he tried to keep Gwaine's wrists between his hands but the knight would have none of it. Arthur's eyes were wide and so weak that for a moment Lancelot felt his heart break all over. But then, The Once and Future King's eyes steeled.

What Arthur did next made Lancelot let out a sob of grief, averting his eyes and covering them with his hands as he sobbed.

Because King Arthur's tears slid down his cheeks while his eyes lightened with sudden dim hope as bended towards Merlin, softly, tenderly, as a mother wakes up a newborn child "Merlin?" The King murmured, cradling his bloodied fingers through Merlin's dark hair "Wake up. It's time to wake up, Merlin…"

Nothing.

Arthur frowned and he let out a small smile, as if he recalled something amusing. "Let's have you lazy daisy." he whispered softly. Merlin's eyelids didn't even flutter and he didn't move.

Something broke in those sky blue eyes all over again as Arthur cradled Merlin closer and whispered sincere apologies, letting his lips rest in the black crown of his precious friend's hair while tears started soaking Merlin's black locks. He rested his chin on Merlin's head as he let out another sigh of defeat.

"Oh, God." The greatest King choked between his tears. "Oh, _God_…."

Gwaine looked as if he had been hit with a frying pan. He blinked, confused, and then looked at Lancelot.

"He's not sleeping" Gwaine said.

Lancelot closed his eyes as tears came down. "No." he said. "No, Gwaine. He's not."

"He's not knocked out." Gwaine said

"No" Lancelot breathed. "No, Gwaine. Merlin's…M-Merlin's gone."

The truth hit the rough knight then, and those eyes, hours before so cheerful and optimistic were shedding tears as he screamed out in grief. Lancelot placed a hand around his fellow knight's shoulders as he covered his eyes, unwilling to see the body of his greatest friend. And Arthur…Arthur was lost to the world again, his attention solely focused on Merlin, tears raining down his face like if they would never end.


	5. Sound The Bugle

_What is this_? A new scene? A deleted scene brought to life by an author's generosity? ( and frankly by sheer boredom)

Yes, dear readers! Prepare for more angst, which is pathetic really. One would think that after a fantastic day out shopping I would have happier stuff to write about. ( I blame TOE for this. Who knew whump could trigger such angsty feels?)

But anyway, I present you, The Camp's deleted scene:

* * *

><p><strong>Fifth<strong>

**Sound The Bugle.**

* * *

><p>It was Leon who saw them first.<p>

He whistled when he spotted his King's blond hair, a smile greater than the sun parting his lips as alleviation washed over him. Immediately, the sound of victorious trumpets invaded the small camp, elevating their happy cry to the heavens, thanking goodness for their King's safe return.

He trotted through the tents, letting an injured Percival at the care of one of the healers and signaling Elyan so that his fellow knight of the Round Table may come with him to greet his King and brother in law. Smiling, they both made their way through the dusty earth, coming to the mouth of their little fortress, turning their gazes up to see….

Leon thought no vision could be more horrifying than reality.

He knew, by the gasp at his side, that Elyan thought the same.

Because there was standing King Arthur, alive and bloody, but not even acknowledging them as he walked in a numb daze through the space between their chain mailed bodies. But that was not the worst…the_ worst_ was the absence of that cheerful man at his side, and the presence of a body with a head of unruly black hair slumped at the end of his arm. His arms trembled, but not from the weight...No, _never_ from the weight.

The smell of bodies was far away then, in the time it took Leon and Elyan's minds to register what they'd just saw and turn to Lancelot and Gwaine, both with their heads bowed, not meeting their eyes.

Elyan had paled considerably, and the gentle knight pursed his lips as his shocked gaze fixed itself in Lancelot. "What…is Merlin….?"

His friend raised his head and looked at him, those gentle brown eyes full of misery as he choked in his words. "Yes, Elyan…he's gone."

"No…" Leon breathed; his eyes open to the maximum, his chest taking heavy breaths. His eyes traveled towards Arthur again, finding that his King was nowhere in sight. "It can't be…"

He turned towards Gwaine, taking one of the knight's arms roughly; barely able to express the dread that was raising bile through his throat. "Gwaine, what the hell happened!"

His friend's eyes flashed, blood-shot and feral, behind the mop of brown hair as he shoved Leon with all his might and the knight lost his balance, falling to earth with a heavy thud.

"What you just heard." Gwaine snarled while turning away, stabbing his sword through every non-living thing that crossed his path.

Leon just blinked in astonishment as the knight went away, turning his gaze towards Lancelot and Elyan, who was already crying into his hands. One desperate whispered plea came from his lips. "No…

But as if to prove him wrong, Percival limped towards them as he locked his wide eyes with those of his fellow knights.

"I just saw Arthur." He said quietly. His serious face was clouded with grief. "He's in a bad shape."

"It's to be expected…"Elyan muttered, walking towards the giant gentle knight and placing a hand on the big bicep. "Merlin-"

"Merlin will survive." Percival said confidently. "He always does."

A look of pain passed through Elyan's dark eyes but he pursed his lips and looked at Lancelot. The knight sighed as he advanced towards Percival. "Perce, Merlin is not wounded…." He said softly. "He's dead."

Percival's face was a mask of indifference for a few moments before his frown furrowed and his eyes widened, looking straight into Lancelot's honest pupils. He didn't negate it though; he just squared his jaw, let silent tears fall down, and asked. "_How_?"

"Morgana aimed…and Merlin took the hit." was Lancelot's soft reply. "That's what Arthur said, in brief."

"Merlin took the hit…." Percival repeated. "He took the- _Oh._.." the gentle knight took his head between his hands. "...as he always does."

* * *

><p>Hours later, the few scouts he'd sent to look for Excalibur arrived. They told him what they'd seen with wide, still terrified eyes, the witch dead with at least twenty stab wounds on her body and Mordred slain beside her. Then, they presented Excalibur to him, it's blade red with dried blood.<p>

Sir Leon took it and his hands shook as he thought about the _only_ event that could have make Arthur leave his precious sword behind.

* * *

><p>Elyan approached his King as the morning arrived, fading light scattering across the horizon. He took a bowl of porridge on his hands, knowing full well that Arthur hadn't eaten a meager crumb for almost a day.<p>

He found him sitting on the same spot he'd stayed all night, looking upwards towards the morning sky, cheeks mercifully dry but eyes clouded with such unsettling numbness…and Merlin _still_ clutched against his chest with vice-like grip.

"You have to eat, Arthur." He said.

He received no answer.

"Please, Arthur." the dark skinned knight pleaded as he fell to his knees beside the man that had grown to be a brother to them all, "Just try and eat something-"

The broken King carded his fingers gently through his other half's black hair with his eyes turned towards the sky as the sun lit up the bloodied battlefield. He did not even made a sound, not a whisper to reassure Elyan that he was there still. There were no tears in his cheeks but his heavy eyes, the way his chest shuddered as he took gasping breaths in, it all added up to a deep concern by the rest of them.

"He may have internal bleeding..." one of the young healers informed Sir Leon as the morning went by. "But we can't know for certain until he lets us examine him..."

* * *

><p>It was Percival who approached his King with the task of coaxing him gently out of his catatonic state. He reached for his shoulder gently with one large hand, placing it, lighter than a butterfly's touch, in the dirty armor and encircling his fingers around it.<p>

"Arthur." Percival breathed.

His King made no movement, no sign that he'd heard. His gaze fixed itself on the faraway hills that were already white with cold snow as his lips parted to let out one heavy, shuddering sigh.

He went on. "Arthur, we need the healer to examine you."

Nothing.

Percival lifted his gaze up to were Sir Leon frowned down at him, his face contorted in his effort to stop the tears that were slipping from his self control at the sight of Merlin's lifeless body. He nodded at Percival, telling him to go on.

And the knight, with much tenderness as he could muster, placed one of his hands around the bony shoulder blades of the fallen warlock.

That's when the previously unresponsive King came alive and snatched Merlin from Sir Percival's grip with incredible speed, almost burying the body against his chest in his effort to conceal him from the world. Those sky blue eyes finally came _alive,_ but brought with them such grief and heartache that Percival wished he'd left it all alone. The almost bestial gaze of his King made the few knights that had gathered around stagger back in fear and sheer horror. Then, King Arthur rose to his feet, not once bending under the dead weight of the man in his arms.

"If any of you so much as _breathes_ near him again-" came the dangerous whisper. "Your. Heads. Will. _Roll_. Is that understood?"

He glared at them with those tortured eyes for what felt like years, at Percival's still kneeling, frozen figure, at Elyan's shuddering form and at Leon's frown. Even at the young healer, who started to cry as she ran towards the other side of the camp.

Then, Sir Leon approached him with a soft whisper, "Please sire, do not carry this burden alone-"

He brushed Merlin's cold fingers with his, and the next thing he heard was a sickening crunch as a strong fist flew towards his nose.

_"Arthur!"_

He heard noise around him as he staggered back, eyes wide, and placed a hand against his nasal cavities, wiping out the blood.

And as he saw Percival trying to coax Arthur back to calmness his eyes connected with those of his King and something in those sky blue orbs just..._snapped. _They became vulnerable, wide and filled with such pain in less time than it took Sir Leon to blink before their mighty King fell to his knees, cradling Merlin closer with a grief-filled whimper. His entire body shook as he buried his head in the cold crook of Merlin's shoulder and used his heals to gently rock his beloved friend back and forth, back and forth...

Sir Leon could barely keep his tears at bay. "Arthur..."

He raised his head after a few muffled words and fixed Leon with those tattered eyes, looking so hurt, and alone, and vulnerable, so human and dependable, so unlike their strong King, that Leon felt his heart shatter.

"I am sorry Leon!" the man who would be known as Albion's greatest King cried. "I am so sorry..."

And Leon, his heart shattering to a million pieces, skidded to his knees next to his King, placing a hand on his broad shoulder and saying softly, "Sire, sire...it's alright. Everything will be alright, Arthur."

"No, it won't." was the painful, awfully sincere reply.

"Arthur..." he said gently, allowing a soft, bitter smile to turn his lips upwards. "Arthur, we won the battle. Camelot is safe."

"No, you are wrong..." said the man who was the High King. "I _lost_ everything. Gods, I've lost everything..."

And he clutched his dear friend to his chest while Sir Leon called for Sir Victor to come forward, while he delivered instructions to the knight so that he would go to Camelot, while Elyan gently suggested him to just...let go of the _body._...

The body.

That word hit him...hard.

Because it was still Merlin, wasn't it? As he glanced down at the peaceful, ivory face, he couldn't help but feel another sword stab his heart and rip apart his soul. Mordred's sword was nothing, _nothing_ compared to this...

Sir Leon was talking to him, gently, but he paid no heed, lost in his own pain as he felt his Merlin-_the body-_ grow even colder between his arms. Oh, God. _Why_ was Merlin so cold? He began rubbing those hands gently with his, trying to warm them up with friction...

"We'll return him to Camelot..." Leon said in that moment, placing one hand upon his brow. "I don't know how but..."

"No."

The word was out of his mouth, in a bare breath, before he could stop it. Sir Leon looked in his direction with something more than awe on his pupils and Sir Victor looked at him through dark, confused, and slightly panicked eyes.

"No, I won't." he said softly, never adverting his eyes from the hands his thumbs were trying to warm up. "Ealdor is a few hours away."

"Arthur..."

"Tell Amhar I'm proud of him." he continued softly, disregarding Sir Leon's weak protests. "Please tell him...tell him that I love him. Tell him he shouldn't wait for me."

Sir Victor vowed his head, eyes wide as he staggered out of the tent and began his journey back to his home.

Arthur remained, sitting crossed legged in the middle of his royal tent with the weight of a thousand sacrifices still on his arms. And the last thing Sir Leon saw before departing towards Camelot was his King's mumbled question as he grasped the frail, pale corpse of his dear friend tighter.

"Why is he so cold?" his King asked the air with a broken whisper between the soft strands of dark hair. His eyes lost in the distant, bottomless heartache of his grief. "He's so cold..."

* * *

><p>Sound the bugle now... play it just for me<br>As the seasons change... remember how I used to be  
>Now I can't go on...I can't even start<br>I've got nothing left... just an empty heart.

I'm a soldier... wounded so I must give up the fight  
>There's nothing more for me... lead me away<br>Or leave me lying here

_- Bryan Adams. "Sound The Bugle."_


	6. A Mother's Tears

_**Revised July 2012.**_

Ugh, I just had to include the sigil. *blushes.* After ranting about if for HOURS with my family and Captain Ozone, I've decided that I'll mention it whenever I can as vengeance. *evil grin.*

* * *

><p><strong>As you may infer by the end of this chapter the next one and last one will be the Lake of Avalon. Now, Vuurvlieg suggested a revival…and I'll leave that choice to my wonderful readers! Should I make Merlin come back to life in the last chapter and then make a sequel or should I continue with the angst and let him die?<strong>

**The choice is in you hands.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Sixth<br>**

**A Mother's Tears.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Hunith"<p>

The woman raised her head from the table, startled, and looked to the door of her hut. She expected to see Merlin but wasn't surprised when she saw King Arthur on the door. What did startled her, though, were the fresh tears that ran through the King's face and the look of absolute despair in his regal features. Standing, hand on her chest, Hunith let out the only thing that made sense:

"Merlin?"

She couldn't suppress a cry of horror when Arthur fell to his knees, clutching her skirt with his fist and buried his face on her lap. Still shocked, and not wanting to admit it, the woman led Arthur to a seat, gently lifting the King's chin to face her eyes.

Arthur couldn't help but sob when he realized how _similar_ Hunith' and Merlin's eyes were. For a second he had thought Merlin was looking at him again…

"Arthur."

It was barely a whisper but there was so much raw pain and sorrow in there that Arthur started crying again. He didn't care if it wasn't a Kingly thing to do. He didn't care about anything anymore.

"Tell me, Arthur" Hunith said softly, still making Arthur's eyes lock with hers. The King's face contorted in pain before he looked down again.

"I'm so sorry Hunith. I couldn't save him, I couldn't…." a low roar burned in his throat, burying his face on the table and slamming his fist in pure sorrow. Hunith absorbed the words but didn't want to believe them. They couldn't be true.

Her son, her Merlin couldn't be _gone_.

"Arthur" she called, laying a gentle hand on the King's shoulder. Arthur flinched, his heart throbbing when his mind flashed back, remembering that Merlin always did that but leaned into her touch, for it felt as if one small part of him could be healed. After all, the mother was a bit of the son.

He faced her, his eyes wet with tears and sorrow, and said in a pained murmur:

"There was a battle…Mordred, Morgana…Merlin saved me but then…the knife…" he was taking rasping breaths between his sobs and Hunith trembled with each word that left his mouth. "He died in my arms, Hunith…."

Hunith suppressed an anguish cry as tears began sliding across her cheeks. Her beautiful face was still young-looking but after those words from King Arthur she seemed to have aged entirely. Pale with grief, Hunith took the head of the King that had become a son to her and a brother to her son in her hands and pressed it to her chest, rocking him, just as Arthur had done with Merlin a few hours ago.

Arthur cried like a small child on her arms, he cried all his sorrow, all his impotence, all his anger. He cried the loss of his other half.

Hunith understood then, that even if she was Merlin's mother and loved him dearly the King's loss was greater. King Arthur was probably breaking apart, piece by piece…

Hunith had asked around, to Gaius, to some druids that had passed her way, about the prophecies that involved her son. She had gaped in wonder when she understood the unexplainable bond between her son and the King. And then, hearing stories from the knights and Queen Guinevere, adding them to her own memories, she had reconstructed a fairly certain image of the relationship between Merlin and Arthur.

Two sides of the same coin indeed.

She remembered that time when Merlin had brought Arthur to visit, after he was made court sorcerer, and the way they had teased each other, like two young siblings. But she also remembered that time were Arthur had been in great danger and the way her son's face morphed into that of the powerful guardian angel he was, Emrys. She had seen with her own eyes Arthur's worry after Merlin had caught a chest illness, for she had gone to take care of him. She would never forget those endless nights, King Arthur and her, side by side, clinging to every little breath her son made.

Arthur still cried and it seemed never-ending. Hunith felt her heart break so she started to murmur soothingly "It's alright, Arthur. It's alright. He is in peace now. You'll be fine…shhh…calm down"

Her King's tortured eyes closed once again and clear tears clinged to the blond eyelashes as he buried his face on his hands, fighting to make his words come out. "I did that. I- I talked to him…I _tried so hard_…_so hard_ to bring him back, I tried…"

"I'm sure you did..." Hunith said softly. "I'm sure you did, Arthur…"

Arthur snapped his head upwards and Hunith felt her mangled heart give a feeble twist and the sight of the King's eyes. They were teary and it made them seem even darker, a blue that reminded her of Merlin. He knelt on the poor floor of her hut, glancing up at them as a child lost in a storm.

"Would you forgive me, Hunith?" Arthur said, taking both of her shaking hands in his calloused ones "Would you forgive me for never being good enough to deserve such a friend as your son?"

She shook her head as he enveloped the King in a tight embrace. "Oh, Arthur..." she whispered as she placed a hand upon his blond hair. "Oh, dear. There's_ nothing_ to forgive."

"You don't know, Hunith..." King Arthur whispered fiercely into her lap. "The thing's I've said to him, the times I've just force him away, My God! What I've _done_ to him!...He should've hated me..."

Hunith's gentle eyes rested upon her King's weary form, sobbing like a horrified child as he clung to her hand. She forced his chin up with her hands, blinking the tears away as Arthur muffled his sobs.

"Listen to me, Arthur Pendragon." she said gently, yet full of a strength she did not feel. "Everything that Merlin ever did was for _you_. He'd taken it upon himself to be your shield. And I'm sure you've made mistakes, as he did. Even so..." her voice was softer as she wiped away new tears that fell from those tortured sky blue eyes with her thumbs. "he viewed you as the _brother_ he never had. You were his world, Arthur. He could not hate you."

"I can't do this without him." Arthur whispered, turning his vulnerable eyes towards Hunith, unknowingly clutching to the last remnant of his beloved advisor on earth. "What can I _do_, Hunith?"

Her eyes found his as her lips pursed in concentration, her heart shaking at seeing her King so broken. She rose up from the small sit and, with an apologetic glance as Arthur dropped his head on the wooden table and sobbed, fumbled with a small wooden box her son had given her years before.

"Arthur."

The King raised his head at his name being called and wiped a hand across his cheeks to get rid of the overwhelming tears. He staggered to his feet as Hunith approached, cradling the small object, enveloped in dark velvet, between her hands.

"Merlin gave me this a long time ago, Arthur." she said gently, placing it on her King's trembling hands. "He told me..." she closed her eyes as her voice broke, filled with grief as she recalled that memory and how she'd shaken her head at what Merlin was implying.

"He told me that if something ever happened to him I was to give you this." Hunith said softly. "He said that you would understand. That he wanted you to keep it."

A scream rose to the King's throat when the soft velvet fell to the ground, revealing a circular sigil, engraved with a flying dove. Hunith watched in apprehension as the man he thought of as her other son, slammed to his knees, clutching the object near his trembling lips as sobs, deep with despair, interlaced with her son's name, murmured over and over, the only consolation for that broken heart.

"Arthur!" she said, falling to her knees beside the man that now was a mere child, consumed by pain. "Oh, my poor boy..."

She enveloped her arms around his trembling flame, resting her head upon the golden one of her King, her body also shaking by sorrow.

As the moon watched over, they both wept.

They both wept for the man that was the dearest part of their lives.

* * *

><p>With brilliant eyes he asked <em>her<em>, because she was the last part of his beloved friend, his trustful advisor.

"What do I do now, Hunith?"

"Keep being the foretold King, Arthur..." was her gentle answer. "Keep being the person Merlin knew you would be."

Arthur nodded, still sobbing with despair. After a few more seconds he stood up, his thumbs running across the dove one last time before he placed inside his chainmail, over his heart, and then bended down and kissed Hunith's hand gently.

"Arthur" Hunith said, a memory cruelly reminding her of those two's habit of never leaving each other behind. "Is he…?"

Arthur managed to give a rather pathetic twist of his lips upwards, confirming her thoughts, and he choked as he said. "He's outside."

Hunith's motherly instincts screamed at her to gather her son into her arms and never let go when she saw Merlin, still and pale under the moon's watchful gaze, looking as if he was taking a nap on the soft grass, as he did so many times when he was a boy, when he'd fall asleep while watching the twinkling stars in the heavens. She could not suppress a cry as the memory hit her. She went, trembling, to his side, and passed a hand through his cold cheek gently.

"Oh, Merlin…" she said in a low murmur. She heard one of the knights beside her son's body stifle a sob, the one his son called Lancelot. She glanced at him apologetically and said "I know Merlin esteemed you very much. He considered you a loyal and worthy friend."

That was such a Merlin-like thing to do that Gwaine felt tears in his eyes too, even though he had managed to dry them a few minutes ago.

"He was amazing, my Lady." Lancelot responded through his tears "Your son was a treasure to us all…a treasure that will never be replaced"

Hunith nodded in silent thanks. She gently placed a hand upon Merlin's dark hair, caressing it softly. But she felt something sticky coat her hand and she almost screamed when she saw red lacing her fingers.

"Arthur." she called in a faint voice. Arthur was there in an instant, extending his hands as if to catch her if she collapsed but Hunith just waved her hand in front of her King, and Arthur's face was once more the example of overwhelming grief as his eyes found themselves staring, once again, at Merlin's life blood. Hunith said in a trembling whisper. "You said it was just the dagger…"

"It was." Arthur responded. He shivered slightly and looked at his own bloodied hands. Stained with _Merlin's_ blood. "That was… me, Hunith…I was stroking his hair and my hands…"

"Oh." Hunith said softly. She understood. Somehow, touching Merlin's hair was soothing. It was as if there, lingering, was a small part of him, the smell of books and herbs…the faint cent of apples…

"_No one_ touched Merlin after the dagger." Arthur said, his voice sharp as steel and yet fragile as tattered glass."I made sure of that, Hunith."

"Thank you." Hunith said in a murmur. "Merlin didn't deserve to be hurt further."

The knight at Merlin's right, Sir Gwaine, with long dark hair and sad eyes suddenly flinched. "He didn't deserve anything!" he growled, eyes flashing with anger and sorrow."He was the kindest man I've ever known. And now...thanks to your sister-" he spat out the word, shooting glares at the King. "He's gone!"

King Arthur's eyes were as hard and brilliant as diamonds when he spoke again, in a cold hiss.

"She was _not_ my sister."

No one answered to that but Sir Lancelot shook his head painfully when Arthur's fists close mightily. He let out a shaky breath and then knelt besides Merlin.

"We are going to the lake of Avalon, now." he informed Hunith as his eyes danced, yet again, over Merlin's still features " it was a dear place to Merlin and I…think that he deserves to rest there"

Hunith nodded and she leaned closer to her son, muttering a heartfelt goodbye in his pale ear. She brushed her lips gently against Merlin's forehead before straightening. "You were a wonderful son, Merlin. You still are. Remember me, my dear son…"

Hunith choked a sob as she watched King Arthur cradle her boy's body in his arms gently before standing up. Merlin's head leaned heavily against his King's chest and if Hunith didn't knew better she would think Merlin asleep, so similar was the innocent look in his face to when she laid him in his bed as a baby.

"Goodbye, my boy" Hunith said, waving as she watched the King strolled away, his eyes never once leaving Merlin's face "Goodbye, Merlin"

* * *

><p>The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.<p>

_- Honore de Balzac. _


	7. The Lake Of Avalon

**_Revised July 2012._**

There's a finished sequel after this, "Two Sides Of The Same Coin." :)

Happy Reading! :D

* * *

><p><strong>Seventh<br>**

**The Lake Of Avalon**

* * *

><p>We always thought we'd look back on our tears and laugh, but we never thought we'd look back on our laughter and cry.<p>

-_ Unknown_

Come back down, save yourself  
>I can't find my way to you<br>And I can't bear to face the truth._  
><em>

_- Breaking Benjamin. "Without You."  
><em>

* * *

><p>When the small group reached the Lake of Avalon a new sun was rising. Its rays seemed harbingers of good news…<p>

For King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot the days of beautiful sunrises were over. He used to enjoy them, especially when he was looking them sitting in that same lake, watching Gwen smile, Amhar giggle and Merlin drift away with a faraway look on his wise eyes.

But now King Arthur couldn't_, wouldn't_, look at the sun. He just didn't care. Why was the sun so cruel, reminding him of the happy days he enjoyed in that same lake when there was that small person, _his best friend, _curled, seemingly fast asleep, in his chest?

_How dare he!_ The King of the stars, be so warm and cheerful, (just like Merlin smiles on those annoying days as servant) so remarkably bright? Why was there light? Why wasn't everything enveloped in darkness?

As if someone would answer.

The King fell to his knees besides the lake. The cool grass lessened the impact but that didn't mean it could cushion his heart.

Being in that lake…with Merlin in his arms…it just brought finality. All his hopes were crushed shattered, as he thought of what he had to do.

Hell, he could _never_ do it.

In an involuntary reaction at his thoughts, the King clutched Merlin's unresponsive body to his chest tightly. He would have given anything, _anything _to hear Merlin say in a small voice _"You're hurting me, clot pole!"_

But his voice didn't come. Merlin couldn't feel how hard his King's arms were locked around him, how fast his courageous heart was beating at the thought of letting go, how he was murmuring his name is a soft whisper:

"Merlin…"

"Arthur" Lancelot said, and Arthur was surprised to realize his knights were there. Had they accepted it so quickly? Were they capable of actually doing it? "It's time"

"No." Arthur murmured "No, _please_"

He hadn't asked help in the long journey from Ealdor to Avalon. He had carried Merlin in his arms the whole time, feeling relieved at the familiar closeness of his warlock. The only thing left of Merlin now was his body, that heavy thing he left behind while he went to the stars, enjoying freedom at last.

His body was everything Arthur had…that's why he hadn't asked for help. And now, he just couldn't let go. What would he do when that small body was taken from him, placed to rest in the cold stone of a lake?

No.

He just couldn't let go. Not yet.

Burying his face on the familiar scent of books in Merlin's hair, Arthur let out a choked sob.

_He couldn't do it_.

Hell, He hadn't counted on this.

"Arthur" Lancelot placed a hand on his shoulder "I know it's hard. I want to keep him with us as much as you do but he is…_dead_. He will not come back...He needs to rest"

Suddenly Gwaine's somehow congested voice floated behind them "I think we shouldn't! He might just wake up if we keep him warm!"

Lancelot closed his eyes in frustration and grief "Gwaine…"

Arthur pursed his lips to keep himself from saying everything he wanted to say. Sickly, he thought how much time it would take his body to give out; his heart to stop beating, once Merlin was taking from his arms.

Minutes.

Seconds.

It couldn't be much, could it? How come had it endured this much without Merlin's heartbeat anyway?

"Arthur, please…" Lancelot mumbled brokenly. He wanted this to end as much as Arthur wanted it to disappear.

Struck with horror and numb with pain, King Arthur got to his feet. He strode forwards, breaking the calmness of the water with his heavy footing, not once glancing at it but only at the young man in his arms. His breath hitched when the water touched his knees, miraculously out of the reach of his court's sorcerer's still body.

He stopped.

_He couldn't do this._

"Arthur?" Lancelot called from the shore.

He couldn't lay Merlin to rest; he was too much of a coward, too much selfish to do that. Merlin was needed; Merlin was needed by him, Arthur. He couldn't _go._

He _couldn't leave_.

"I can't" Arthur mumbled "I'm so sorry, Merlin. I am too much of a prat to even let you rest. But you _can't_ rest now, Merlin. Look what we've done together. Albion needs you…I need you"

"_Albion needs you both"_

Arthur's immediate reflect was to clutch Merlin impossibly tighter to his chest, as if afraid that someone might take him away. Eyes wide, Arthur saw how the Lake was suddenly engulfed in light and a Lady emerged from it. She wore dark purple robes that enhanced her pale skin and dark, knowing gaze. Her long hair was floating behind her, much like the waves she had just come from.

"_Oh, Merlin…."_ the Lady said in a tender, soft voice as her eyes came to rest small body, engulfed in the King's arms.

And just like that Arthur placed the puzzle together. This lady, her familiar face, and the way she talked of Merlin as if she knew him. The lake…

The druid girl.

"_Freya?"_ Arthur whispered tentatively.

"_I remember you, Arthur Pendragon_" the Lady said, shifting her glance momentarily before her attention returned to Merlin.

Arthur looked at Merlin's face, thinking of the way he had been hurt by the death of this girl and decided that the least he could do was express his guilt, they way it ate him inside to know that he had been responsible for his best friend's first love death" I never meant to…"

"_I know. Merlin and I both forgave you the same instant you did it. You have nothing to be sorry for"_

Arthur glanced down, humbly bowing "Thank you"

"_Why have you come to my lake, King Arthur?"_ Freya asked sweetly, as if she knew Arthur didn't have the strength to talk anymore.

"I wanted…" Arthur murmured. He glanced back at Lancelot and Gwaine, who stood still, eyes fixated on the Lady of the Lake "we wanted…" he corrected "to lay Merlin…." he had to force the words out of his mouth. It was difficult"…to rest here. With you"

"_Merlin"_ the Lady said appreciatively, stepping even closer to peer at the warlock's face, half buried in Arthur's chest _"He looks like he's sleeping"_

Arthur wanted nothing more than to respond "_That's because he is"_. But that wasn't happening. He glanced down and let tears mix with the cool water of the Lake of Avalon before he faced the lady again "He's not" he managed, his heart furiously breaking as he spoke "He's _dead_"

The Lady's eyes burned into the depths of Arthur's soul when she looked at him with those dark brown irises. Arthur felt as if everything inside him was torn open…tore open wide for the Lady to see.

"_You've got a triturated heart, King Arthur of Camelot. You've suffered greatly."_ Her voice was soothing, like the water that licked his feet "_this loss has affected you immensely"_

She posed it as a question. And Arthur knew it was for him to respond. Once again, he looked down at his fragile warlock in his arms…the other side of the coin.

"You know why…" he muttered quietly "He's my brother. He's…._He's Merlin"_

"_You are willing to follow, aren't you, Arthur Pendragon_?" The Lady said, her eyes still nailed into Arthur's bloodshot ones.

Arthur didn't ask how she knew. But she got something wrong. He wasn't _willing_ to follow, he was _going_ to follow. Merlin's body clutched to his chest was everything that kept him from crumbling to the ground in pain. He knew his heart would stop once the Lady took Merlin from him. He _knew_ it.

"_It's not like that. You are a separate being from Emrys, Arthur Pendragon. You'll live. With a broken heart, a torn soul, a one sided coin. But you'll live"_

"No" Arthur choked out. He was going to die with his heart broken, he was sure of it. There was no way he could survive Merlin. No way.

"_What about your son? What about Guinevere?"_

Amhar? Guinevere?

Arthur felt a pang of guilt when he thought about them. His beloved son…his beloved wife. He couldn't leave them, could he? They didn't deserve it.

But _he_ didn't deserve being without Merlin either.

He could almost feel Merlin's voice _"Still being selfish, cabbage head?"_

"_What about your knights? Including those waiting in the shore?"_ the Lady continued _"what about your Kingdom? Your son is certainly not old enough to rule"_

Arthur's pain finally got through the dam he had built in those lonely hours of walking towards the Lake. He advanced towards the Lady, shifting Merlin in his arms gently so that he was more comfortable, and said in a pained hiss.

"What about Merlin, then? Do you expect me to continue without him? I _can't_ and I _won't_…and I know you know that. I've seen enough battles, enough families torn apart, enough bloodshed. My own family was destroyed by evil. I've cried enough…" and he was crying again, tears like clear blood streaming down Merlin's calm face, making the illusion as if he was crying too "I've suffered enough. But this isn't normal. This isn't natural. This pain, this horror, this loneliness….I've never believed in superstitions but there is only one explanation for this, and you know it."

He gasped a breath and waited. The Lady watched him silently through solemn eyes.

"You _know it_." Arthur continued with a quivering voice "you know that neither of us can continue without the other. A coin cannot exist without the other side, it cannot survive one sided. You know that in the end you'll have to take both of us. To die."

The Lady looked sad, almost, her eyes glanced at Merlin as she spoke "_I didn't make the rules, King Arthur. It was destiny who decided that you're souls would be entwined. And I know that you are torn apart. I feel your pain. Without him, you are weak, vulnerable like a newborn child. You have a choice, Arthur Pendragon. You can come with him. Or you can stay here with him. What will you choose?"_

Arthur felt lightheaded as he blinked away the tears since his hands were still supporting Merlin's limp, cold body. What did the lady just say? That he could _stay_?

"He's dead" Arthur said brokenly "He's dead, _Freya_, he can't stay"

"_He may be dead but you aren't"_ The Lady said softly _"One side of the coin is still on earth"_

"Y-you mean" Arthur stuttered, hope blossoming in his chest. He could hear Lancelot and Gwaine drawing harsh breaths behind him, and a delighted squeal could be heard. Probably from Gwaine "that you can bring him _back_?"

"_I cannot do anything for him, My King_" Freya said sadly. Her eyes suddenly became luminous "_You however…"_

Arthur shook his head furiously. His arms tightened around Merlin in a subconscious plea for help "But I've tried. I've tried and he didn't wake up, he didn't say anything…He's still dead"

"_You reached for him as a friend, warrior and King. Try reaching for him as a soul mate. As a piece of your soul, My Lord"_

Under another circumstances Arthur would have felt embarrassed at the word "soul mate" but under _this_ circumstances, and due to the hope they encircled, that word was just heavenly.

"How?" he said in a murmur. His heart was singing inside his chest with an unspoken hope, so clear and raw, that he started tearing of pure happiness "How?"

Freya smiled, if only slightly, and motioned towards Merlin's body. Arthur understood what the Lady asked. He had to put Merlin down.

Retreating towards earth, Arthur laid his precious burden in the ground as tenderly as he could. Merlin's head slumped away from him and Arthur reached towards it with a shaking hand, gently turning it towards his eyes as he tried to stop his madly beating heart "Merlin" he said softly to his absent friend " You better listen to me now, you idiot. I will bring you back, you hear that?" then he turned towards Freya who had advanced to the ground as well. She kneeled down besides Arthur majestically and motioned for him to listen.

"_I will enable you to connect with the spirit world, My King. You will travel to Merlin's essence…there, the rest will be revealed to you. Bring him back, My Lord…you've only got one chance. If you do not succeed, Merlin will remain dead and you will continue living, for I feel I have interfered long enough, and I fear I won't be able to do it again"_

Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at Merlin's face again. He squeezed the still shoulder in reassurance. If he had one chance then he sure as hell would bring Merlin back, even if he had to drag him by the neckerchief. Arthur smiled sadly as he thought of the neckerchief Merlin no longer wore and tears escaped from his eyes.

"I'm ready" he said solemnly.

Freya took the King's hand and placed it gently on Merlin's still chest. Arthur winced slightly at the coldness but he had no time to think about it because then, Freya touched her smooth, almost breezy finger and placed it on Arthur's temple.

Arthur couldn't feel his body anymore, he couldn't blink, couldn't think. The only think he could actually feel was his hand over Merlin's heart but that also faded away after a while…

A white, bright light surrounded him and if shifted to gold as Arthur looked. He blinked, and instead of the light there was a little kitchen in front of him. Arthur gasped in understanding when he saw a young looking Hunith crouching beside a small, raven haired child on the floor.

_Merlin._

Arthur felt his body give a strange shudder of happiness as he looked into the familiar blue eyes of his best friend, if rather giant and amazingly haunting; Merlin's eyes had the same hidden knowledge and wisdom even through his younger years.

"Merlin" Hunith said gently. Her dark hair was down in waves and she smiled at her son "Merlin, are you alright?"

Merlin smiled at her sadly and Arthur felt his heart hurt at the sight of his friend's sorrow. Merlin shook his tiny head before saying rather slowly "I hope it didn't have to be this way, Mother. Why do I have to hide? I wish I could be normal…"

Hunith's expression became stony, as if she knew that someone had hurt his son "What happened, Merlin?" she took Merlin's chin gently and lifted the boy's head towards her eyes.

Merlin sighed softly before answering, and tears built up behind his mystic blue orbs. Arthur felt his heart give a painful squeeze as he crouched down besides Hunith, taking in Merlin's expression too "Paul. He said magic is evil. I'm not evil, am I mother? If I'm evil, would you please stop me before I hurt someone? Please, just…I don't want to be evil"

Arthur was horrified. He suddenly recalled the conversation he had with Merlin in that distant day when he became King.

"_Magic…is pure evil…I'll never lose sight of that again…"_

_Oh, God_

As he watched little Merlin weep silently Arthur wished with all his might he could see him. He wished he could hug the shrunken version of his best friend and murmur over and over again in his ear "You are not evil, Merlin, not even close…you are the antithesis of evil…you are the kindest soul to ever live…"

As he watched Hunith say things along those lines to his teary son, Arthur found that he couldn't see them as clearly…

A flash of gold snatched the vision away and Arthur found himself standing on a room he knew very well…Gaius's chambers.

An older looking Merlin was standing there, pacing restlessly with a maddening look on his young face. He looked pleadingly at Gaius, who was there too, Arthur realized.

"And once you're there, what will you ask?" Gaius asked, Arthur had never heard him sound so furious.

Merlin's eyes were so sad that Arthur could do nothing but wander what the hell had happened. He sighed softly before responding "For Arthur to be saved"

Arthur strode to Merlin's side and planted himself in front of him _"What?" _he demanded. But of course no one heard him. Merlin was still looking at Gaius through Arthur's body.

"The Questing Beast chose Arthur" Gaius said, sounding resigned "That means the old religion has decided his fate"

Arthur blinked a few times_. The Questing Beast?_ - And then he realized. _Oh._

He jumped when Merlin thundered beside him, slamming his fist in the table "Then I will convince them to change their minds!"

Gaius strode closer to his ward, worry clear on his face "It is not that simple! The High Priests have the power to mirror life and death, but there will be a price to pay! They will demand a life in return. Merlin, please, I beg of you…"

Arthur was looking at Merlin as if he saw him under a whole new light. They had only known each other, for what, a year maybe? Less? And Merlin was determined to bring him back…whatever the cost…

And then it dawned on him. A life in return…

_Oh, God, no. He couldn't go through it again. _

"I'm sorry Gaius" Merlin said, and Arthur's suspicions were confirmed as his heart thumped loudly. Merlin couldn't be such an idiot, could he? Please… "Whatever the price is, I will pay it gladly." There was no hesitation in his blue eyes. Merlin was going to die for him.

Arthur almost threw himself at Merlin, forgetting for a moment that they couldn't see him. "No, Merlin!" he cried "Do not offer your life for me, you monumental idiot..."

The scene changed again.

Arthur found himself with an outstretched hand, standing in the middle of what seemed like a forest. He could see Merlin's lean frame kneeling besides something and then standing to press it gently on someone's forehead. The person was wearing a chainmail and looked so pale that for a moment Arthur actually thought he was dead. And then he realized. It was him! It was Arthur!

"Come on" Merlin said softly, and Arthur felt another wave of relief at hearing his voice, even if it was from the past. With a start, he realized that Merlin's familiar jacket was gone and then his heart gave a soft squeeze when he located it under his injured-self head. Another wave of affection for the warlock went through him "Dollop head" Arthur gave a small laugh as Merlin used the familiar word. Merlin patted his cheek gently and he said "I need you to recover"  
>Arthur wondered how did Merlin managed to get him across the woods without getting detected but Merlin was now turning him to the side gently and the King hissed in understanding. There was an arrow wound on his past-self back, a one fairly mortal. How did Merlin managed to keep him alive?<br>Merlin slowly placed his hand over the wound, closed his eyes and said a spell.

Nothing.

Arthur crouched besides Merlin, taking in the despair on his friend's younger features. But Merlin didn't give up. His face became determined and he started talking, low and urgent "Listen to me clot pole" another grin from King Arthur at that. How he had missed Merlin! "I don't care if you die; there are plenty of other princes. You're not the only pompous, supercilious, condescending, royal imbecile I could work for" Arthur smiled gently at the long list of adjectives. Typical Merlin "the world is full of them" Merlin's expression turned solemn, almost sad, and Arthur positioned himself closer as Merlin said softly "But I'm going to give you one more chance."

With a small shake of his head Merlin chanted another spell as King Arthur watched him carefully. When Prince Arthur remained immobile and pale, Merlin let a small tear roll through his cheek. Arthur stood up, worried, when Merlin stormed away.

He followed as Merlin kneeled besides a small water stream and gave himself to sobs. Arthur kneeled besides him, knowing that he could say nothing or do nothing, because in reality he wasn't there.

It looked like Merlin was really crying. Tears were streaming down his blue eyes and into the water, while he tried desperately to rub the blood away with his hands. Arthur looked at the pale form of his warlock, reduced to tears because he couldn't heal him.

"Merlin…." He said tentatively, reaching over to put a comforting hand on his younger friend's shoulder, even if he knew it wouldn't work. But before he could even try a golden light engulfed him and Merlin was gone…

He was in a forest…again. Arthur wondered what was going on when he caught sight of Merlin, on a horse, striding through the trees. And behind him… Lancelot.

"When we get to the Isle of the blessed" Lancelot was saying, a dark not on his voice "Do you really intend to sacrifice yourself?"

Arthur felt his stomach give an unpleasant twist. His memories of the dorocha were not pleasant and giving way to Merlin's frozen form…No, he couldn't think about that.

Merlin chewed his lip before responding "what do you want me to say?"

"I look at you" Lancelot continued, eyeing Merlin with wonder in his eyes "and I wonder about myself. Would I knowingly give up my life for something?"

"You've got to have a reason" Merlin said after giving a soft sigh "Something you care about…something that's more important than anything!" he gave a loud "yah!" and the horse strode forwards.

Arthur was bewildered by his friend's loyalty, he felt moist behind his eyes. Merlin was willing to die for him, even after almost dying himself. And to think Merlin considered him, Arthur, someone that had hurt him uncountable times in the past, more important than anything…

Arthur gazed at Lancelot's amazed expression before everything revolved into a world of golden colors. Suddenly, Merlin's presence was everywhere…the warmth of his magic, the scent of his hair…

He closed his eyes as he listened to whispers that seemed to be carried through the wind.

"_I will be by your side, like I always am. Protecting you…"_

Arthur remembered that phrase. This time he cried, overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude and sadness that he couldn't give a name. The voices grew louder, as if they were inside his head. They interlaced with each other, starting when the other ended…surprisingly, Merlin's voice wasn't the only one. Arthur could hear himself, Gwen and other people, all of this as he breathed in Merlin's essence.

"_Arthur is my friend…"_

"_You are a loyal friend, Merlin…"_

"_You shouldn't push your friend's away, not when you need them the most…"_

"_Thank you, old friend"_

"_It's my duty to protect Arthur"_

"_You will be the greatest King Camelot's ever known"_

"_Just trust in yourself"_

"_I can't let Arthur die…"_

"_Arthur values your opinion above almost all others…even if he'd be the last person to admit it"_

Arthur gave a soft smile when he recognized the voice. Mithian…and she had been so right.

The next one was his voice, an angry, desperate, tore-spitting shout of _"MERLIN!"_

The rockfall, no doubt.

"_Arthur needs me!"_

"_I was trying to look out for you…"_

It was then when Arthur spotted something lying on the soft, golden grassed ground that had materialized around him. He sprinted towards it, his heart thumping madly on his chest…

"_You are so loyal…how loyal can you be when you are dead?"_

No. Not _dead_. He would bring Merlin back…

_No one touches Arthur Pendragon while I am alive"_

Arthur ran, he was almost there…

"_I told you once, Arthur: That I was glad to be your servant till the day I die. My life and my gifts are yours, My King. They have always been"_

He kneeled besides the figure, turning it over with shaking hands. It was Merlin….but this Merlin seemed to be sleeping. Arthur called out his name, loudly. Merlin didn't stir.

"Merlin, wake up. You've got to wake up…come on, come on…" He placed one of his hands under Merlin's neck and lifted it gently "Wake up, my friend…I'm bringing you back, you hear me? You are coming back with me, now. That's an order, Merlin."

Instead of waking up, Arthur flinched away when sudden golden light engulfed Merlin's body, taking him away from his hands. He screamed for him to come back but there was no response…

Arthur stood alone. And he was so tired…

Shouting suddenly ensued in his head. He doubled over, trying to subdue them… the voices were too loud now…too loud…as if they were trying to escape.

"_I've seen how much he needs you…how much you need him…you are like two sides of the same coin"_

Another voice, gentler, softer, went through him, pulled him out of the light.

"_Enough"_

Arthur opened his eyes. He was panting, lying heavily on his side on the grass. The lake glistened with a mystical hue on the lonely hours of the sundown.

The Lady of the Lake was still crouched beside him, a hand on his shoulder.

Arthur blinked at her, when realization hit him.

Merlin.

His heart climbed to his throat as he took in the figure of the warlock, lying, immobile, on the ground by his side. He didn't even look back at Lancelot and Gwaine, who were just staring at him completely dumbfounded. He crawled to Merlin's side, desperately searching for a pulse.

Maybe it was his fear…Maybe it was his shaking hand…but Arthur could feel nothing.

Again, all hope came crashing down and King Arthur let out an agonizing whimper. Tears streamed down his eyes as he sobbed, not caring about anything anymore. Climbing to his knees, he pulled Merlin's body towards his chest, hugging him tightly while he cried.

The sun was slowly setting down and the view was just beautiful…

The Lady of the Lake looked down at the water as she returned, partly submerging herself in it. Lancelot and Gwaine cried too, Gwaine loudly and Lancelot softly, gently, wiping his eyes with his hands.

"Merlin" Arthur cried through his sobs "I thought I told you to come back. Why didn't you listen to me? Please, don't leave me again…please…"

The King would always remember this as a miracle, for the rest of his life.

Arthur froze when Merlin shifted slightly on his tight grasp. He looked down, impossible hope blossoming in his chest; to see two blue eyes blink lazily open. They closed again and Merlin sighed softly before opening them. His gaze wondered slowly around until he found Arthur's.

Arthur couldn't move. He could barely remember to breathe. He reached down to touch Merlin's chest, where the mortal wound had been inflicted and found nothing. He grasped his friend's wrist and saw, beautiful, lively pulse beating through his veins. He looked into Merlin's eyes and fought the urge to break into heart wrenching sobs of pure bliss.

Merlin smiled softly at him.

"Arthur. You needed me…I've come back."

* * *

><p>I wanted to forgive<br>I'm trying to forget  
>Don't leave me here again<br>I am with you forever, the end.

_- Breaking Benjamin. "Without You."_


	8. Playlist

I'm sure most of you have eyes wide as saucers right now, from the moment you saw an update for this story. ;)

Well, I've been editing this fic for the past few days, mostly because I was going through it and I almost fell back when saw how many grammatical mistakes were jumping from the screen. I went over it, with a delicate pencil in hand, retouching and adding. :D

And I just decided to share my passion for music with all of you, and do a playlist for this fic :) Fun right? Anyway, all the songs have a specific part of the lyrics that inspired me while writing this, I'll be posting those phrases between quotations. Some are from different POV's as well.

If there's any mention of romantic love just take it as BROMANCE ;)

Thanks for reading and, enjoy the music! :D

_By the way, I do not own the lyrics to this amazing songs._

* * *

><p><strong>Camlann Playlist.<strong>

* * *

><p>Throughout the whole fic.<p>

_This Land- Hans Zimmer._

.

.

.

Part 1.

Merlin & Morgana's POV.

_Hurricane- 30 seconds to Mars._

"Tell me would you kill to save a life

Tell me would you kill to prove you're right

Crash crash …Burn. Let it all burn

This hurricane's chasing us all underground."

_Into The Fire- Thirteen Senses._

"Come on, come on  
>Put your hands into the fire<br>Explain, explain  
>As I turn and meet the power<br>This time, This time  
>Turning white and senses dire<br>Pull up, pull up  
>From one extreme to another."<p>

.

.

.

Part 2.

Merlin's POV.

_Run- Snow Patrol._

"I'll sing it one last time for you  
>Then we really have to go<br>You've been the only thing that's right  
>In all I've done."<p>

Arthur's POV.

(because Arthur killing Morgana to this song is so bad ass.)

_Closer- Kings of Leon._

"This floor is crackling cold  
>She took my heart, I think she took my soul<br>With the moon I run  
>Far from the carnage of the fiery sun<p>

Driven by the strangled vein  
>Showing no mercy I do it again<br>Open up your eye  
>You keep on crying, baby<br>Ill bleed you dry."

.

.

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Part 3.

* This song...-hyperventilates-.*

_Tell Me Now- Hans Zimmer._ ( A God.)

"Who cries from the hill?  
>the mist creeps from your eyes,<br>your banner will promise  
>let's remember the start<br>I believe, your heart

tell me now  
>what you know<br>never let me go  
>tell me what<br>you see  
>tell me now<br>what you see."

.

.

.

Part 4.

_Come Back To Me - Les Friction_

"I'm holding out til we're out of time  
>Would you pierce the veil<br>Would you cross the line  
>I can feel you here, souls redefined<br>I can't let go of our design

Come back to me."

Gwaine & Lancelot's POV.

_I Grieve- Peter Gabriel._

"it was only one hour ago  
>it was all so different then<br>there's nothing yet has really sunk in  
>looks like it always did<br>this flesh and bone  
>it's just the way that you would tied in<br>now there's no-one home

I grieve for you  
>you leave me<br>'so hard to move on  
>still loving what's gone<br>they say life carries on  
>carries on and on and on and on..."<p>

_For You Only- Trading Yesterday._

"Blinding darkness surrounds me  
>And I am reaching for you only<br>This hopelessness that drowns all that I believe  
>Will be the one thing that I need<br>For you only

Keep on running farther, faster  
>Keep on searching for this haunting has an answer<br>And I know you will find me, in orbit  
>For I am breathing only for this.<br>For you only. For you only. For you only."

.

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Part 5.

Arthur's POV.

_Sound The Bugle- Bryan Adams._

"Sound the bugle now... play it just for me  
>As the seasons change... remember how I used to be<br>Now I can't go on...I can't even start  
>I've got nothing left... just an empty heart.<p>

I'm a soldier... wounded so I must give up the fight  
>There's nothing more for me... lead me away<br>Or leave me lying here

Sound the bugle now... tell them I don't care  
>There's not a road I know that leads to anywhere<br>Without a light, I fear that I will stumble in the dark  
>Lay right down and decide not to go on."<p>

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Part 6.

_Pieces- Red._  
>"I'm here again<br>A thousand miles away from you  
>A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am<br>I tried so hard  
>Thought I could do this on my own<br>I've lost so much along the way

(...)

I've come undone  
>But you make sense of who I am<br>Like puzzle pieces in your hand,

(...)

I tried so hard! So hard!  
>I tried so hard!"<p>

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Part 7.

_He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother- The Hollies._

"...But I'm strong  
>Strong enough to carry him<br>He ain't heavy, he's my brother

So on we go  
>His welfare is of my concern<br>No burden is he to bear  
>We'll get there<p>

For I know  
>He would not encumber me<br>He ain't heavy, he's my brother."

(...)

And the load  
>Doesn't weigh me down at all<br>He ain't heavy, he's my brother."

_Without You.- Breaking Benjamin._

"All I have is one last chance  
>I won't turn my back on you<br>Take my hand, drag me down  
>If you fall then I will too<br>And I can't save what's left of you

Sing something new  
>I have nothing left<br>I can't face the dark without you  
>There's nothing left to lose<br>The fight never ends  
>I can't face the dark without you."<p>

_Brothers Under The Sun- Bryan Adams._

"Follow the voice - that's calling you home  
>Follow your dreams - but always, remember me<br>I am your brother - under the sun

We are like birds of a feather  
>We are two hearts joined together<br>We will be forever as one  
>My brother under the sun<p>

Wherever you hear - the wind in the canyon  
>Wherever you see - the buffalo run<br>Wherever you go - I'll be there beside you  
>Cos you are my brother - my brother under the sun."<p> 


End file.
